Page 26 of Two Wrongs

“Liam, it’s Wren. Open the door.”

I switch to banging on the door with the side of my hand, but there’s still no answer. “I’m coming in Liam,” I announce as I use my key to open the door.

I’m surprised to see the place is relatively clean. I expected to find take out containers covering every surface. Liam doesn’t do a good job taking care of himself. If his choices are to cook or starve, I fully expect him to starve. I’m not even sure he knows where the dumpster is for the complex.

It’s odd to admit all of that to myself. For so long I’ve made excuses for the imbalances in our relationship. None of the things I told myself make sense to me now. I told myself he worked hard and needed to relax when we were at home. The truth I hid from myself was that I also worked hard, then came home and continued to work.

Even when our sex life started to dwindle I blamed myself. I thought he wasn’t attracted to me anymore because there was something wrong with me. I started dieting and exercising. I hate exercising, but I did it religiously for months. More of my time was spent grooming, cooking, cleaning, and basically trying to be a traditional house wife, all with the added responsibility of being the other wage earner of our household.

As wrong as what Griffin and I did the other night is, I think it might also be responsible for saving my sanity. The fact that he wanted me so badly that he’d risk everything important to him filled the dark spaces inside of me. When he took control, I didn’t feel weak, it made me feel free in a way I’ve never felt before. Turning him down yesterday was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t be selfish with him. The best I can hope for is to hold on to the memory of that night for as long as I can, and find someone, someday who makes me feel that way again.

I shake myself out of my reverie as I enter the apartment. The last thing I need to be doing is fantasizing about Liam’s father as I go to check on him.

“Liam,” I call out. There’s not a lot of places to go in this tiny apartment. I think my six-hundred-square foot cottage is larger than this place.

Looking around, I spot his car keys sitting in their usual place on the coffee table. Since he always insists on driving himself, I suspect he's somewhere in the apartment.

Inside the bedroom the bedding is rumpled, and there’s a stale odor of sweat in the room. She’s probably been here since I’ve been gone. Whoever she is. I try not to let my mind wander down that rabbit hole, because this is a small town. It’s probably someone I know, and I’m not ready to face who that could be yet. Once I find out, it’ll be hard for me not to compare myself to her. Whatever she has that I don’t, clearly interests him more than me. Enough to throw away our years together.

“Please don’t let me find them in the shower together,” I whisper to myself. I can hear water running, but it doesn’t sound like the shower. “Or a bath,” I beg to whatever deity that might be listening to me.

I bang on the door, but there’s no answer. Taking a deep breath, I twist the knob, but there’s something keeping it from opening all the way. Something is wrong, I can feel it. I shove harder, and manage to open the door enough to squeeze myself through the crack.

Liam is sprawled on the floor, his feet pressing against the door keeps it from opening. Then I notice the blood trickling from a gash on the side of his head.

“Oh god! Liam.” He doesn’t respond to my voice, and I fight to compose myself enough so I can do what I can to help him. His pulse feels strong, but what do I know? I’m pleased to know he has one.

It feels like I’m watching someone else from that moment on. I call 911, wait for the ambulance, then hop in with him on the way to the hospital.

“Is your husband on any medication?” the EMT asks. “Mrs. Hale?”

I blink and try to focus. “Sorry, I, uh, I’m not sure. We’re separated. I did get a call from a pharmacy in Pine Bluff. I think she said she was calling from Wood River Medicine. She was trying to get information for the doctor that prescribed him a schedule II pain killer.”

“We’ve got a possible overdose,” he says to his partner. The other EMT quickly prepares a syringe and plunges it into his thigh through his jeans.

I zone out again and the next time I snap back to the present, Griffin is shaking me.

“Wren, what happened?” He’s looking at me like I’m the one that’s injured, and I look down at myself.

There’s dried smears of blood on my hands and clothes. “I’m covered in blood.”

My chest feels tight, and spots dance in my vision. The world tilts sideways, and it feels hard to breathe.

“Nurse,” he shouts.

Everything goes black. My last thought is, “Griffin is here, he’ll fix everything.” Then I let oblivion take me away from all the things I can’t deal with.

* * *

A bright lightassaults my eyes, and I turn away from the stinging intrusion. “Mrs. Hale is waking up,” I hear a voice say.

“That’s not my name,” I croak. My mouth feels stuffed with cotton, and I feel like I’m swimming through mud trying to get to the surface.

“I’m sorry. Wren is it?” the voice asks.

I nod, and try to get away from the light.

“You fainted in the waiting room. It seems you’ve had quite the stressful day.”

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